Chapter 30: Mind Over Manipulation

Author's note: Thank you for your continued support of my work. Your reviews, favorites and follows are amazing and I'm constantly reminded of how wonderful our fandom is! Regardless of your feelings about the finale (I'm still sorting through my mixed emotions as well), we can all agree that we belong to a group of some of the most talented, kind-hearted individuals I've ever met! Yes, the show ended, but I have a lot more stories to tell; so, if you keep reviewing, I'll keep writing. :)

This story was written for the Klaroline Infinity Finale Week Event. In this installment, I created an AU human Klaroline fusion with Damages. Specifically, Timothy Olyphant's character from season 2 of Damages inspired this idea. For this chapter, Caroline is a trauma survivor who finds unexpected comfort in someone she sees as a kindred spirit.

Warning: Violent. Dark.


"God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another."
― William Shakespeare, Hamlet


The heavy silver ring split her lip open, and Caroline tasted the bitter iron of her blood as her head snapped back. His dark eyes glittered with malice at her small grunt of pain, but from the way his pale fists clenched, he was furious at her refusal to give voice to her pain. The next blow landed squarely upon her right cheekbone, grinding into her soft skin as though he branded her. Later, when she finally had the courage to look in the mirror, she would note with disgust how the outline of the gaudy Salvatore family crest had been punched into her cheek. It would take weeks before her skin would replenish itself to erase his mark. It would take far longer for her to replenish her soul.


One month later.

Caroline nervously watched the group of strangers sitting in a circle. They all were looking expectantly at her and she closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. You can do this. You can do anything. You're Caroline Forbes. After her attack and its cruel aftermath, she realized the terror and anger she felt wouldn't go away on their own. Her friend, Bonnie, had recommended this support group for trauma survivors and she decided the best way to start healing was to jump right in.

Taking a shaky breath, she opened her eyes and said, "My name is Caroline and I'm a survivor. I moved here recently and decided to check out a club one night. A hot guy named Damon approached me and after a couple of drinks, he charmed me into going back to his place. As soon as I crossed the threshold, it turned...bad. He showed me his true face, and he became this monster who hit me and insisted on calling me this other girl's name...Ellen, I think."

She shuddered as she remembered the wild gleam in his dark eyes when he handed her a long, brunette wig and told her to put it on. "He wanted me to dance for him, so I did, and I realized that he had taken me to a basement with this creepy collection of fantasy swords mounted on the walls. I maneuvered my way over to a short dagger and managed to rip it off of the wall. He was furious and ran toward me, but I cut his forearm before he grabbed me again. Then, I hit him with the back of my head and when he fell to his knees, I rammed the dagger's blunt-metal hilt into his temple, knocking him unconscious."

If she closed her eyes, she would still be able to smell the musty odor of the old books Damon had stacked in his basement. To this day, she still couldn't walk into a library or a bookstore without retching. "I immediately got in my car and drove to the police station where I told an officer what happened." She recalled the immense relief she had felt when she had collapsed into the policeman's arms, shakily giving her statement. She had no way of knowing that the real horror was about to begin.

"They took my statement and pictures of the injuries on my face and reassured me that he wouldn't get away with it." She laughed bitterly. "I was new in town and ignorant to the power Damon's surname would carry. His family lawyers either intimidated or paid off whomever they needed to disregard my attack. No charges were ever filed." She took a small sip of her oolong tea, its lukewarm temperature alerting her to the fact that she had talked longer than she had intended. She was surprised to realize she felt slightly better after speaking to the group. Maybe this support group was just what she needed.

An intriguing pair of gray eyes caught her attention, and she couldn't help but notice the owner was an attractive man with innocent-looking dimples. He occasionally caught her eye before looking away, but she noticed that his gaze did not stray too far from hers for very long. He was new to the group like she was, and during the meeting, she learned that his name was Klaus and he was learning to cope with years of physical abuse that he suffered as a child at the hands of his father. When the meeting ended, he cast a furtive look her way, and for a moment, her heart sped up, and she was worried that he would try to flirt with her, which she was not remotely ready to handle, but instead, he nodded respectfully in her direction before heading toward the parking lot. She was left with an odd sensation in her chest, and later on, when she was back home, she was startled to realize it was disappointment.


Two months later.

A hesitant kiss on her cheek. The slight scratchy feel of his stubble. His comforting smell of cedar with a hint of lemon. A careful thumb graze across her knuckles. Brief smiles that were slowly beginning to unfurl into something resembling genuine emotion.

Caroline had been attending her trauma survivors support group meeting every week, and while slowly putting herself back together, she had inadvertently gotten to know Klaus, first during the meetings and then they had started meeting for tea at a nearby shop a couple of times a week. He seemed as wounded as she, and she found his cautious nature reassuring. Neither were in a rush, but it was clear the chemistry between them could be the start of something wonderful. Caroline realized she could still feel hope and it was just a beautiful as she remembered.

She stirred just a touch of honey into her vanilla lemongrass tea, glancing up at the familiar, soft gray gaze. "Group tells us it gets easier, right? That you somehow let go of the fear and anger?"

"I suppose, sweetheart," Klaus said, shrugging as he took a sip of his black currant tea. "For me, the anger hasn't gone anywhere, so instead I use it."

Curious, she asked, "For what?"

"To survive," he said softly, not meeting her eyes as though he was afraid of the judgement he would see there.

She tentatively reached out, placing her hand on top of his. She gently told him, "I know what you mean. Sometimes I think all my fear and anger will just sit here inside me, until I absorb it, until it becomes a part of me. I worry that it will turn me into a monster. Into something like him."

The simple weight of her hand seemed to give him the courage to speak, as though he had been holding his words back until this moment. "That would never happen. The light that surrounds you is too pure. Trust me, I know monsters, and you will never be like him, sweetheart."

Caroline felt her cheeks warm at his sweet words, and she was charmed by his shy smile topped off by dimples.

They lapsed into a silence that had grown more comfortable over time, occasionally broken by a whispered conversation that started off casual, but slowly evolved into something more.


Three months later.

He still tasted of black tea with a hint of spice. The way his body moved above her, within her left her breathless. His familiar smell of cedar with a hint of lemon would cling to her sheets for days and she found herself lingering there, infusing her bare skin with his scent. The soft scratch of his stubble as he rubbed his cheek against hers and the way he stared deeply into her eyes as their bodies joined made her ache. Those first hesitant kisses and careful hand grazes had slowly bled into an explosive, deep-rooted emotional connection that left her aching for more. She never thought she would be desired like this. That someone could want her this much.

Caroline rolled to her side, their noses almost brushing as she lovingly caressed his dimpled cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

"For what," Klaus asked in a hushed tone.

"For being you. And letting me be me," she responded, lightly kissing the tip of his nose.

Something flashed in his eyes, darkening them as he vowed, "For you, this will always be me."

She bit her lip, finding courage in the safety of the small space between them to tell him what her recovery had taught her. "You want to know how I survive each day? Damon no longer exists for me. When I start to think of him, I just will him away." She smiled at him, and its brightness refused to be dimmed by a lingering bitter tinge. "Maybe one day the universe will finally take the hint."

Klaus wordlessly pulled her into his strong arms, wrapping his reassuring warmth around her as she drifted off to sleep. He seemed to count every breath she took, as though measuring them in the silence of the dark room. He carefully slid his body from under hers, staring at her beauty in reverence. He leaned over to softly kiss her cheek, an indulgent smile appearing on his handsome face. He allowed his fingertips to carefully brush down the column of her throat, seemingly reassured by the strong pulse he discovered. He silently got dressed and then left her apartment, intending to return before she awoke.

The black limo was waiting for him at the curb, its engine purring ominously. The shy smile and soft lines of his handsome face became a cold, bladed grin and harsh planes. He moved with the easy grace of a deadly predator, a feral gleam in his steel gray eyes. He slid inside, directly across the figure who lounged casually along the leather seat.

Damon Salvatore announced in a bored tone, "You're late. Also, I told you not to contact me until you finished the job." His dark eyes swept over Klaus, adding, "You do recall why I hired you all those months ago, right?"

Klaus nodded curtly, not bothering to speak.

His silence clearly unnerved his companion, who suddenly spoke rapidly with a high-pitched tone that belied his nervousness. "I hired you right after that bitch tried to have me locked up. She dragged my family name through the mud!"

Klaus sat there silently, taking in every uncomfortable twitch of Damon's, as though biding his time. He cocked his curly blonde head to the side and replied. "But it's mostly because she fought back, isn't it?"

Damon answered petulantly, "They aren't supposed to fight back." Leaning forward slightly, he hissed, "Caroline Forbes is supposed to suffer. Your job is to gain her trust and seduce her. Then, you reveal that it was all an act; that I hired you to crush her spirit and then when she is completely devastated, you kill her."

"I am aware of the terms of my contract," Klaus said lazily, settling more comfortably against the bench seat as he stared unflinchingly at Damon. "However, I have decided to alter certain provisions of our agreement. I have gained Caroline's trust and discovered that I have grown a taste for it. For her."

Before Damon could protest, Klaus surged forward unexpectedly, producing a serrated blade from beneath his shirt sleeve and pushing it deep within the tissue and thick tendons of Damon's throat, choking off his screams. The muscles in his forearms relaxed as his felt the struggle leave the worthless man's body.

As the malicious glint faded from Damon's dark eyes, Klaus whispered hoarsely, "The universe is finally taking the hint."